the meet-cute, a gotham fanfic
by aut0phile
Summary: AU. Bruce is a low-level gangster, serving Oswald Cobblepot. One night, he's on a job at the Siren's Club when the live singer catches his attention. That singer is Selina Kyle. Future Fic. T for some slight smut.


**Summary: AU. Bruce is a low-level gangster, serving Oswald Cobblepot. One night, he's on a job at the Siren's Club when the live singer catches his attention. That singer is Selina Kyle. Future Fic.**

 **(A/N): This might be slightly inspired by that crossover episode of the Flash where Barry and Kara-El are trapped inside their own heads and they end up in a universe similar to this one.**

 **The world of Gotham is not my creation.**

* * *

His orders were simple: Case the place, but don't stay long. Who would have thought he wouldn't even be able to follow those orders?

The nondescript car Bruce was riding in stopped. He looked out the window, and saw a sign next to the front door of a swanky looking building, that said, "Siren's Club Upstairs."

He pushed open the car door and stepped out into the rain. It wasn't torrential, but enough to make him wish he had an umbrella. He closed the door and the driver sped off without a word.

He took a sweeping glance around the street to see if anyone was following him or at least looked suspicious. Nobody did. Reassured, he walked into the building.

There were shiny chandeliers and the floor was marble. A doorman sat at a desk that must have housed more than a few monitors with footage from security cameras. The doorman spoke, interrupting his train of thought.

"What you lookin' for, kid?" Bruce bristled slightly. He hated being called a kid. He was a few years past the drinking age.

"Siren's Club."

"Penthouse. Don't get too drunk, or I'll have to drag you out of there myself." Bruce scoffed but said nothing. He walked to the elevator, pressing the _UP_ button and waiting.

It took a while for the elevator to reach the ground floor. How many levels were in this damn building? The doors opened slowly, revealing a couple that probably had too many drinks. They were gripping each other tightly, as they were depending on each other for balance. As they passed Bruce, they giggled and mumbled incoherently to themselves.

He looked back at them, a disapproving frown on his face. They were adults, they should have at least some idea of how to drink responsibly. Shaking his head, he entered the elevator and pressed the button that read _PH._

As the door began to close, he heard a few clamorous footsteps headed in his direction. They sounded like high heels. He heard a voice begging, "Wait!"

Rolling his eyes, Bruce pressed the door open button for the lady. When he looked up, he was surprised by the beautiful woman that stood before him. She had red hair and wore a green jacket that hugged her slender curves. The boy in him wanted to ask her what her name was, but he decided that now was not the time.

"Where you headed?" Bruce asked her.

"Siren's Club," she said.

Bruce smiled as he pressed the button again. "Me too," he said. She smiled back, then looked down at her shoes. Neither knew what to say.

Bruce decided to break the silence. "You been here before?"

She smiled but shook her head. He noticed that she was fidgeting a little, tapping her fingers against her clutch. It could be her first time at _any_ club, he realized.

He looked up at the number displayed above the elevator doors; they were almost at the club. "Girl like you won't have to spend any money at this place. Guys'll be head over heels trying to buy you a drink." He glanced at her by his peripheral. Her cheeks had turned slightly pink.

The elevator dinged, signifying their entrance into the club. The doors opened, and jazz music began to play in their ears. The entrance was blocked by a large, muscular man who Bruce probably wouldn't want to get into a fight with. He stepped up towards the man, who looked at him like he was some idiot who deserved a beating.

"ID, please."

Bruce pulled it out of his wallet and showed it to the man. After inspecting it for a second, he handed it back to Bruce, and said, "Have fun, kid."

Bruce passed the man but looked back at the girl he'd rode the elevator with, for some reason. The bouncer seemed to be giving her a hard time. He overheard some of the things he was saying to her, and he did not like it at all. "What's an innocent girl like you doing at a grown-up place like this?"

Bruce exhaled and walked back towards the bouncer. He gripped the man's shoulder, which made him turn around. A disgusted sneer was displayed on his face.

"Hey, I just let you in. You want me to take you back out?" The man snarled.

"No, I want you to let the lady in. She showed you her ID, that's all she had to do," Bruce said calmly, but firmly.

The man laughed in his face. "Fine, but only because I can't beat you up," he said. The bouncer moved to the side, and the girl sighed with relief, stepping through the threshold.

She looked at Bruce then and gave him an honest smile. "Thank you."

He shrugged. "It's nothing," he said. "Now go have some fun."

"By the way," she said as she walked past him, "my name's Ivy."

"Bruce," he replied. She nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

Now that he was alone, Bruce could focus on his surroundings. There were colorful spotlights oscillating around the room, catching some faces in their path. All the faces he saw were smiling. They liked this place.

He closed his eyes, soaking in the smells and sounds. He tuned into the band that was playing, the bassline's deep riff, the piano's pleasing chords reaching his ears, but most of all, he heard the singer's intimate, sultry voice, singing about love and need. Bruce felt drawn to the voice, literally drawn to it, as he felt himself taking slow steps towards it.

He opened his eyes and saw the singer. She wore a dark blue, sequined dress that had a cut on one of the thighs. On her feet, she wore black stilettos with a strap around the ankle. She danced with her hips and her arms, which swung at her sides in time with the music. Her dirty blonde curls bounced up and down with her every move, and her green eyes almost teased with their stare.

She was beautiful.

His eyes could not leave her; he was transfixed. At one point, he noticed her taking a quick glance at him, and he could have sworn she had given him a wink.

Suddenly, he remembered what he was there to do. God, Cobblepot was going to make sure he received a good beatdown if he didn't follow his orders. So he pulled himself away from the singer's beautiful voice, from the pleasing music, to do his job.

He headed towards the back, near the kitchen, but when he reached the doors, somebody grabbed him by the collar roughly and said, "Where do you think you're going?"

Bruce turned around slowly, hoping he wasn't in danger. The man holding him by his collar let go and said, "Bathroom's that way," jerking his thumb behind him. Damn it, he thought.

"Thanks," he said reluctantly. He walked around the man and went back out into the commotion.

The people were rough. He had to literally shove his way through the crowd at some points to get to the bathroom. When he finally crossed the club, he twisted the knob and entered the bathroom, and began to pace back and forth. Things had not gone as planned. He had deducted one thing, though; there was something they didn't want him to see in the kitchen.

He spent a few minutes formulating a plan of action, and when he felt like he was ready, he pushed the bathroom door open once again and stepped into the fray. He couldn't seem too suspicious, though, so he sat down at the bar and ordered a drink, blending in with the other clubgoers. He was stirring his drink with the small straw he was provided, hunched over on his stool when he felt a presence at his side.

He looked up from his drink and saw the singer from before standing next to him, arms folded over her chest. "Mind if I sit?" She asked.

It was odd to hear her speaking voice after listening to her sing. It was like hearing two different people. It must have been taking him a while to process because, with a slightly irritated expression, she snapped her fingers right under his nose. "Hey!" She said, impatiently.

Bruce reacted, surprised, as if he had been woken up by being splashed in the face with a bucket of water. "Oh, um, yeah, it's all right." She smirked, mouth still closed, but her eyes showed a lot more emotion than the rest of her face. Damn, he needed to stop staring before she got uncomfortable and left.

"You liked that song I was singing earlier," the singer said, after signaling the barkeep for a drink of her own. Her eyes bored into his own as if she was accusing him of something. It was intimidating as well as sexy. Bruce liked that.

"Yeah," Bruce confirmed. "You've got a nice voice." He looked at her to see her reaction. A little blood rushed to her cheeks, and she looked down at her drink, stirring it with her straw. Bruce smiled. She was flustered.

Then just like that, the blush was gone, and she was back to being her sharp, normal self. "You're the first man I've met who hasn't made an immediate pass at me or tried to grab my ass," she said.

Bruce almost spat out his drink, causing a coughing fit to ensue, alcohol filling his nasal passages. The singer chuckled a little bit and pounded his back a few times to clear his airways.

Bruce wiped his slightly teary eyes, smiling, and said, "Well, I tend to learn a girl's name first before I do any of that."

"You'll have to earn the right to know my name," she said cheekily. "If you can dance without stepping all over my feet, I might consider sharing."

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Is that a challenge?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest and standing to his full height. He towered over her, even when she stood up from her own stool and with the extra inches provided by the stilettos.

She slowly walked around him, bringing her hand up to trace his jaw, and loosely dragging it across his chest. His breath hitched.

"Come on, big boy," she said. "Show me what you got."

He turned around, watching her hand leave his body and return to her side. Her hips swayed as she walked out onto the dancefloor, taunting him with her hourglass curves. He noticed he wasn't the only one staring. Others parted to make a path for her, watching her walk through. A few men turned away from their girlfriends to ogle, earning them each a strong slap in the face. There was nobody to stop Bruce, though, so he admired for as long as he could before realizing she was waiting for _him_ , not some douche who would put his filthy hands on her and subsequently get kicked out of the bar.

Bruce began to weave through the remains of the lane the onlookers had made for the seductive singer, finding her waiting for him in the center of it all.

Damn, he was nervous. He was a grown man, and a meaningless dance with a woman was making him nervous? Grow up.

She placed her palms lightly on his upper back, forcibly bringing her closer to him than he expected. She really had to reach, he guessed. His hands slowly found a place on her lower back that wasn't too suggestive, but not too prude, either. They stood like this for a few seconds in the short silence between song transitions. As the drums began to beat out a rhythm and the piano began another melody, the pair began stepping side to side, swaying to the beat. It was a foxtrot. When the singer began her verse, they stepped in a loose zig-zag pattern, legs moving perfectly in sync with each other, eyes never breaking contact.

 _"You give me fever,"_ cried the singer. _"When you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight."_ Bruce felt chills running up and down his spine. This song sure was something hot, and the woman in his hands was something hotter. Whenever they took a sidestep, she would look down at the ground next to her and bite her lip slightly.

A voice inside his brain screamed code red, but he tuned it out and focused on not tripping all over her like she said he would. He twirled her, watching her dress catch a little air, showing a little bit more of her leg than he expected to see. Bruce stole a glance at her thighs. They were smooth and slightly toned. For a singer, he thought, she looked pretty active.

 _"I light up when you call my name, 'cause I know you're gonna treat me right."_ Whoever wrote this song knew what the hell they were doing, because Bruce was totally lost in the moment, wanting to show this woman that he was the man she was looking for. The ambiance of this moment was intoxicating.

He twirled her, held her, and moved with her. Together they could dance like they were one person. Every step they took was fluid and there were no moments where one would go off-balance or trip.

Soon enough, the song was over, and they both found themselves a little out of breath, some sweat glistening at Bruce's brow. He removed his arm from her waist to wipe it off with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Well," the singer panted, in between breaths, "You sure know how to dance."

Bruce grinned. "You're not so bad yourself," he admitted, wanting to sound like he was reluctant, just to push her buttons.

"Oh, I'm better than 'not so bad,' Swayze," she said, standing up on her toes to whisper into his collarbone. "I'm incredible."

 _Hoooooooooly shit._

"So," he whispered into her ear, his cheek resting against her temple, "What's your name?" He felt her smiling into his neck, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she came down from her toes, took his hand, and began leading him away from the floor. What was going on? Was this some joke? Was she taking him to the bouncer to throw him out?

As it turned out, she was, in fact, leading him in the opposite direction of the bouncer, towards the hallway containing the kitchen that Bruce had tried fruitlessly to enter about an hour ago. However, instead of leading him inside, she pinned him against the wall across from it by his arms. She kept them low at his sides, as she moved slowly in on him until their hips were pressed upon his, and he had absolutely no space to move whatsoever. She looked up at him, biting her lower lip.

"What- what are you doing?" Bruce was losing his ability to think and speak clearly.

Suddenly, she let go of his wrists and moved them to his chest. She lightly gripped his shirt collar and stood back up on her tiptoes. Was she going to whisper it in his ear?

What an idiot he was. He finally realized what was going on, and brought his previously idle hands to her hips. He closed his eyes, preparing for what was to come.

When their lips met, Bruce felt an electrical current dial his senses to eleven, and he was filled with elation. The heat of her face contrasted the slightly cool air of the club, and he felt every inch of her skin that was currently in contact with his. He squeezed her hips and a little bit of her ass, and she moaned lightly into his mouth. When her mouth opened, he took the opportunity to lightly suck on her lip, which only intensified the moan. Her hot breath against his face made him slow down a little bit.

At the same time, it seemed, they both remembered they were in a public place and pulled away from each other slowly. Bruce groaned a little in disappointment. He opened his eyes as she finally moved her mouth from his to his ear, whispering, "My name's Selina."

"Bruce," he breathed back, watching her return to her normal height. She smiled at him affectionately.

"Well," Selina said, "I hope I'll see you again, Bruce." With that, she walked around the corner of the wall they had kissed on and disappeared into the crowd. Bruce leaned against the wall for a few seconds, processing what the hell just happened to him.

He came to the simple conclusion that, well, _Selina_ had happened. His lips still tingled from their contact with hers, and he wished he could stay in this feeling forever.

Then he remembered he had a place to be. So he pushed himself off of the wall, maneuvering through the crowd, until he passed the bouncer and entered the elevator, leaving behind the remarkable experience he'd had that night. That didn't mean he forgot it, though. As a matter of fact, he didn't stop thinking about it until he saw her again.

* * *

The next time he saw Selina, she was singing at another club, and he was doing another recon mission, but obviously, the second he found her he lost all focus on his job and stayed to watch her sing. A couple times, he caught her glancing at him while she was dancing. Every time she did, he saw a little smile on her face form, and she always sang with a little more energy after he smiled back.

Bruce didn't know it, but Selina had been getting gigs at the places Bruce had to case out on purpose.

And he thought he was chasing her.

* * *

 **This piece immediately popped into my head after I finished watching Season 4, for some reason. I thought flipping Bruce on his head as a character would be pretty interesting, and this was exactly the way to do that. If it wasn't already apparent, I absolutely adore this ship and can't wait to see what happens between them in the coming season. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I would always appreciate a review! I am constantly looking for ways to improve my writing.**


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